


Carrying On, Breathless

by KewlKiddsKlub



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Butters, Butters has anxiety, Halloween, Less zombie more undead, M/M, Mild Gore, October, Resurrection, Top Kenny McCormick, Undead, eventually sex, frickfracking, zombieromance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-02-08 18:03:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18628438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KewlKiddsKlub/pseuds/KewlKiddsKlub
Summary: Butters meets Kenny. Kenny is dead.  Hell ensues.(once I write more there will be a better desc)Hiatus/unfinished





	1. I: Rise

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks! Welcome to my Bunny fic. This is the first SP fanfic I have ever written and also (hopefully) a fairly long story. I wanted to outline a few things before we get started...  
> The characters have been aged up to around 16 or so,  
> This fic doesn't quite fit a specific timeline or year. I reference things from modern day events but the fic doesn't have a set year. as in, they could be living in 2010 or 2020 it doesn't matter  
> This is an AU where the characters have never met or known about Kenny before they meet him in the story. Butters is the fourth friend.  
> so, I hope you will enjoy my story! Please, pls pleez comment, kudos, and share if ya like it! I will be more likely to update quicker if i get some support and inspiration.  
> Also this fic will also be on Wattpad @KewlKiddsKlub

October 1st.

Light raindrops shattered on the leaves and fell to the dirt like small jewels. Butters shivered slightly as he watched the ripples on the surface of Starks Pond. The trees barely swayed and the wind was stagnant. When Butters had a chance, He'd go to Starks Pond with a book in his hand to relax somewhere quiet and forgot all about his school assessments and exams. It was nice to get stuck into a good book, This time he brought a copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, he hadn't started yet but was eager too until he was the state of the sky.

Throughout the years he had become more introverted and recluse, due to constant manipulation and teasing. However Butters still liked hanging out with his friends Kyle, Stan, and Eric. Together they got up to some really strange and crazy things. Too bad many of them ended up in him getting grounded, hurt, or humiliated. So many times Butters had said "Not anymore. I won't be the butt of any more of your damn schemes, Cartman!" but alas, He always was, until he started reading books. Books had helped him, they really did! They taught him to be brave and stand up for himself. When he told His friends about this, Eric Cartman called him gay and was shunned.

Now he stood, Just watching the ripples while the cleanup men and South Park committee did their job and contemplated going back home and reading or staying until the rain cleared up enough for him to find a dry spot to sit.

The night before was South Parks first ever "Large Bath" annual festival. Yes, it's as odd and lame as it sounds. From what Butters gathered, it was held to increase tourism in South Park and build up their economy, although gossip around town was that it was just another publicity stunt for Mayor McDaniels to boast about. The townsfolk decided it was a great idea to put bath chemicals and soaps into Starks Pond and have a huge, cold bath together to celebrate the ending of summer.

It was lucky that the event committee couldn't afford enough soap, or else the whole lake would be polluted to hell. Butters didn't go, but from what he heard from Kyle who had to accompany his brother Ike for Ike's class performance, it was Really lame and some people started acting weird towards the end. Things like that happen more often than they should in the (not so) quiet mountain town.

Butters wandered around the lake for a bit, passing time before he'd have to be cooped up at home for the rest of the day when he saw a sleek black SUV pull up a few feet away from Butters. He watched as, to his surprise, four men wearing black vests and black hats with yellow text that read 'FBI' on them came out of the car with Mayor McDaniels. They exchanged words and McDaniels pointed to a man in a blue shirt over by the end of the pond. She got his attention and signaled him to come and speak with her. As he came closer, Butters noticed it was one of his friend's dad, Randy Marsh. Butters waved slightly to as he passed him.

Stan's dad, Randy was an interesting guy. He was a geologist, though he was mostly known for creating music under the name, Lorde ( a secret that got out only a few years back) as well as being highly involved in the mishaps that happened in South Park.

Butters watched on as McDaniels yelled, "Randy! I put you in charge of supplying bath salts and bath bombs and look what you did!" She gestured to the FBI agents around her.

Randy furrowed his brows and looked around before finally answering, "Did I do something wrong? because I did everything you as-"

"Bath salts, Randy, bath salts!" She bellowed, her face resembling a tomato.

"Yes, yes, bath salts. I put them in the water to... Shit. Wrong bath salts!" Randy realized as he started tugging on his hair with an extremely anguished expression.

"You remember what happened in the Miami incident, don't you?" Mayor McDaniel's warned, sternly.

Randy's face twisted into what Butters could only describe as a face of horror. "I remember." He replied, gravely as if he was a child being scolded for letting the family pet starve.

The Mayor ushered him into the FBI SUV and then whispered furiously to the FBI agents. They turned to Butters. Butters gulped and his hands become moist. He shouldn't have heard that conversation...

"Okay kid," The tallest man with greasy red hair and a thin nose began. "Run along. You didn't hear nothin. Starks Pond closes in an hour when the crew gets here." Butters nodded furiously as he watched the men and the mayor get in the SUV with a scared looking Randy. The car sped away, splashing Butters shoes as it went. He sighed. Butters sure was sick of all the darn trouble South Park caused.

The rain wasn't showing any signs of stopping, Butters realized, as the clouds grew darker, so he turned to leave, tucking his book into his shirt. He especially didn't want to get involved any more than he should, so leaving was for the best. He sighed, his breath small and ghostly and began to head back to his home in the quiet mountain town of South Park.

A wet barely audible rustle came from behind him. Butters turned, hardly expecting danger but checked anyway. Better safe than sorry, everyone would always say.

Butters' eyes widened at the sight of a mucky, mud-splattered hand that was grasping at the weeds. The rest of the hand; the arm, was submerged under the lakes crystal surface. Butters rushed forward, of course, and squatted down to reach the hand. He grabbed it, his warm skin making contact with the cold, slippery, mire covered hand and pulled as hard as he could. It was no easy feat. Butters felt like he was having a game of tug 'o war with the lake itself as if it was claiming the body was theirs, that it belonged it the waters to be lost and forgotten. The lake went from clear blue, enchanting and honest to dark, dangerous and unforgiving.

Butters clenched on the arm, now taking hold of the wrist and put all his effort into dragging it up and out, now not caring if he was squeezing too hard. Slowly the submerged body began to reveal itself. It was a boy, not any older than Butters himself, and was wrapped tightly in an orange parka. Now that he was mostly out of the water, Butters could see his face, and how covered on mud he really was.

Butters paid no attention to the muck covering his clothes as he brought the boy close to him and carried him to a nearby tree, where the lake couldn't swallow him up again. The boy felt rather light as if he was slightly malnourished. Perhaps he got lost or injured during the "Large Bath" event...

Butters laid him down gently as if any strong movements would cause him to panic. The boy in the orange parka was indeed alive, as Butters witnessed him grasping at the lake weeds in an attempt to pull himself out but as he slumped down on a tree, he looked dead. A peaceful kind of dead, Butters had thought. The parka boys eyes were shut, the skin under then was dark and gloomy, sort of like the goth kids' makeup, Butters noted. His lips were red with a slight purple to them and he looked as if all the blood was drained from his face. His face was round and pale and all his features were soft, he did look very beautiful. But honestly, enough of that!

Butters knelt down beside the boy and did what he could only think to do, poke him. The boy stirred but only slightly. Butters frowned. How was he gonna help this guy? "um..." He started. "Excuse me, are ya okay?".

The boy didn't reply, but opened his lazy eyes and lifted his head setting his gaze on Butters. The boy's eyes were ocean blue and seemed vaguely similar to someone Butters may have seen before. Like a long lost friend or a B-list celebrity. Butters shook his head, trying to get rid of the useless thoughts and feelings. His job was to at least help the poor boy, not stare at him.

"O-okay. Well don't worry pal, I'll getcha outta here and somewhere warm, okay?" Butters offered as he took a big breath. He slowly inched closer to the boy, before making physical contact with him, and picked him up to carry him with his hands on the parka boy's back and thighs, bridal style.

"My name is Leopold Stotch, but everyone calls me Butters." He said looking down at the dazed boy in his arms. The orange parka boy closed and opened his eyes lethargically as if he needed to sleep for a thousand years but couldn't, which made Butters furrow his brows in uneasiness. Butters made a mental note to really watch this guy. He might be on drugs. Butters attempted to smile weakly, hoping to ensure the boy of his safety, as he began to walk back to his cozy and vacant house.


	2. II: Muddy Hair and a Blank Stare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenny will be back to normal in the next chapter so I hope this isn't too weird.  
> Please tell me what you think!

October 1st

Carrying the dazed boy all the way from Starks Pond was no easy task despite the short distance. Butters really wasn't the most athletic type and the dirty parka boy certainly wasn't making the trip any easier. When Butters got tired of carrying him, he managed to get the boy to hobble on his own, leaning on Butters.

Soon as they made it outside of Butters tidy house, they were both camouflaged in mud head to toe. The rain, now bullets hit their backs and face running the mud down and over them. Goosebumps littered Butters skin as his fingers shook delicately. He looked at the boy, expecting him to look far worse than Butters, and he did, his hair was caked in mud and his eyes hung, his expression shadowy and unclear. Butters noticed, however, that the boy had no reaction to the cold at all. His face hadn't reddened and he wasn't shivering. He swayed looking emotionless and unaware. Butters' face crinkled with concern. This guy was screwed up.

Butters ushered the boy to his backyard by lightly settling his hands on the boy's shoulders as if he was a delicate flower that was not to be crushed and guiding him in the right direction. Butters was trying his best not to disturb the other boy with startling movements as he really did not know what that boy was on, and the last thing he wanted was to trigger the kid into some sort of meltdown. Butters plan was to clean him up, get him fed and warm and figure out where he came from to get him the help he needs. Sounds like a good plan, but Butters had a feeling that something would go awry, as it always does.

Butters' backyard was just a plain field with an average looking tree and cut green grass. It looked the same as every other South Park backyard, fenced off with old manky wood. It's size served well to Butters when he was a kid as he used to play, embarrassingly enough, as Professor Chaos, where he would take out his frustrations and manifest them into a supervillain. Butters cringed remembering that phase.

The orange parka boy began to lean on Butters slightly more, shaking him out of his thoughts. Right, clean off the mud, Butters remembered.

He steered the boy towards the green hose that plugged into the water pipe that was to the right of the back door. The rain had already washed off some of the mud from the other boy's hair, revealing it's dirty blonde color.

Butters picked up the hose but quickly lost his grip as it fell back into the muddy grass. It was wet and slippery which frustrated Butters. He just wanted to get clean, go inside and out the hearing on while he reads a good book.

Butters got a good grip on the hose and twisted the metal tap counterclockwise. Touching it makes him want to recoil his hand due to the freezing metal coming in contact with his bare skin. He aimed the hose at the boy who wasn't even looking in Butters' direction but instead off somewhere in the distance.

The water, which would have been deathly cold, hit his shoes and ran down bringing the mire with it onto the back porch. Butters turned up the pressure to blast off all of the dirt. He then proceeded to do the same to himself and shuddered as the freezing drops splashed at his ankles. Better this than having to clean the carpets, he thought.

Butters turned to the orange parka boy. Now with the boys' shoes clean enough to walk into the house, Butters contemplated hosing the rest of him off to prevent his bathroom from looking like a swamp. He quickly thought against it though, despite that the boy was hardly fazed from the unusually cold rain, Butters figured that was too cruel.  
He unlocked the back door and ushered the boy into his welcoming home. Butters took a deep breath, filling his lungs with warm air. A comforting smell hung in the air, a smell Butters can only describe as 'home'.

He closed the glass sliding back door and turned to the boy. He'd be hung and quartered if his parents knew what he was doing. Butters shuddered, they actually would, too. Lucky for him, his parents were away on a cruise and weren't due back until the 3rd.

"So, uh, come upstairs with me and I'll show you where the bathroom is... Then you can take a shower while I set up a bed for you. Okay?"

To Butters excitement, the parka boy nodded in agreement. He nodded. Maybe this guy isn't as out of it as he thought.   
"Oh good! Just be careful and uh, don't strain yourself..." Butters warned as he pointed towards the stairs.

Butters walked into the green painted wall living room to turn the heating on a teeny bit to warm them up. Sure it wasn't snowy and freezing as usual but if his little stowaway was at Starks Pond overnight, he needed to be warmed up.

Butters heard the shower turn on, indicating that the boy was washing up. He walked up to the stairs and went into his room to set up a bed. He thought about setting the kid up in his parent's room but decided against it as he could keep an eye on him if he stayed in his.

Butters blue room, the same color it's always been, was nothing special. His blue sheeted bed was opposite the door with a set of drawers next to it. He had a desk with a cheap computer next to the door and a built-in closet on the left wall from the door. Although not much, this was one of Butters safe spaces where he could shut himself off from the world and his parents. Butters always made sure to keep it tidy for any visitors, not that he gets visitors often.

He grabbed the flat futon-like mattress he keeps in his closet and unrolled it out beside his bed. The only other blanket he had was a thin comforter with rocket ships on it. It did not look very warm, Butters noted.

"It'll have to do... he's not sleeping with me. Who knows how he'd behave." Butters muttered. Only then did his actions get to him.

He found a boy in the lake, took him home, and is letting him stay the night. Butters can only imagine where he came from and what he's on. Did he come from a mental hospital? He acts like he might've but maybe he was jacked up on god knows what. Butters wasn't the most experienced person in the world, so he couldn't really tell. Perhaps he was disabled and lost his carer... and then walked off and fell into the lake? If he did his family would most likely be a South Park resident unless they were tourists who went to see the lame 'Large Bath' event. When Butters pulled the boy out he was deathly cold. Colder than someone should ever be. Thinking about all this made Butters frown. It was too much.

So he went back downstairs to make a sandwich.

 

***

The sandwich was good. Really good. The flavors subsided all of Butters worries. He knows he shouldn't stress eat, but it was about dinner time anyways. He even prepared one for the boy, who really ought to be out of the shower by now, and decided to bring it up to him, as well as to supply the boy with some fresh clothes.

Butters went back upstairs to his closet so fix the boy some clothes. They seemed to be about the same size so he grabbed a blue shirt and some PJ pants as well as some underwear.

Butters with the sandwich in hand and folded clothes pressed his fist on the wooden door and breathed in.

His knock hit the door lightly, so lightly that he wasn't sure the boy heard it but before he could go again the door swung open. Hot steam hit Butters face, causing him to jerk back as to not get scalded.

There in the doorframe stood the naked boy, hair still muddy but sopping wet. Now that Butters could see his complexion, he was quite pale, not just in the far but everywhere like all life was drained out of him. He had bruises along his shoulders. Light green, dark purple, brown. The whole lot. On his stomach, it was even worse. The boy looked like he'd taken a severe beating. Butters winced at the thought of someone doing this to anyone. No matter who it was or what they did, it was brutal. Butters hoped no one like that lived in South Park. The thought of someone with that much bloodlust roaming the streets filled him with paranoia.

Below the boy's stomach were bruises of a less severe kind. They ran from red to brown leading down to his pelvis area-

"Don't even..." Butters snapped at himself. First things first... And that was washing up to prevent mud from dirtying the whole house.

Butters stepped into the hot bathroom as the steam subsided. The walls were wet from the steam and the mirror was beyond fogged up. Did this guy seriously take a shower using only the hot water? The heat in the room indicated so.

The boys orange parka and bottoms lay on the floor in a heap, damp and glistening from the steam. Butters grabbed them and threw them into the corner to hopefully contain the mud. He made a mental note to put them in the wash later.

Butters looked at the boy again, this time examining his hair and face. His hair was muddy brown but with a golden shimmer underneath. It was evident this boy didn't actually bother washing.

Butters blushed as he realized what he had to do, his heart all of a sudden thumping hard. He had to look after this boy... Which included washing him. Butters took a deep breath in and reached into the shower for the loofa and his moms fancy shampoo.

He placed his hands lightly on the boys bruised shoulders, careful not to press on them, and guided the boy onto the toilet lid, sitting him down, facing the back of the toilet. Not only did the boy facing the other way makeup easier for Butters to touch the boy without making we contact (it was also Butters preferred way of sitting on the toilet).

He pressed into the pump of the shampoo, creating a small sized dollop on the palm of his right hand and slowly brought it up to the boys head. He touched his hair ever so slightly gauging for a reaction. There was none. He began to massage the shampoo into the boy's hair, foaming it up, as well as massaging it into his scalp for a deep and proper cleanse.

He then used his mom's special body wash on the loofa and began to scrub down, avoiding the bruises as much as he could. He stared with the shoulders, then the back, then the arms, then the stomach... And then he couldn't go any further.

His cheeks went red with embarrassment thinking about what he just did. He just scrubbed down a boy his age in a vegetable state. If anyone at school found out, they'd make fun of him for being 'gay' even more than they do now. And if his parents found out, he'd be sent to the gay conversion camp gain. 

All he did was help someone out, he concluded, which was completely normal and not weird at all.

He then prodded the boy into the shower for a full rinse off. Once Butters gets the blue-eyed boy to where he belongs, they can deal with washing him up properly.

Butters shower pressure was one of the best there is. Not to harsh to hurt he skin but forceful enough to massage the back and blast off all the dirt. Mud streamed down the boy's face and pooled at his feet. His hair went from being knotted and filthy to golden blond and... And still knotted.

Butters washed the shampoo out and began the conditioner, using only a tiny tiny bit. He pulled out his mom's hairbrush and ran it through the boy's hair tugging at the knots until they dispersed.

Butters was no hair and beauty expert but once he was done he admired his work. The pale boy stared blankly. Now that he was properly cleaned, Butters noticed the slight discoloration on his lips and fingers as if he had frostbite.

Butters was an empath and so it was saddening to see the boy in such a sickly state. It made him feel protective and nervous.

But everything makes Butters nervous.

Butters used the towel he'd gotten for his 12th birthday, the last birthday present he ever got, to dry the boy just enough so he could put some clothes on.  
Now he had to do the worst thing of all. Put the guy on some underwear. Butters flushed and considered just giving the guy some pants. Who needed underwear? No, Butters concluded, everyone needed underwear.

Like an awkward ninja, he leaned down, underwear in hand and gently coaxed the boy into lifting his feet into the holes and then pulled up, closing his eyes. He didn't open them for a good five seconds until he had to check if his plan worked.

He opened his eyes and sighed in relief. Thankfully nothing went awry.

Now putting on the rest was easy.


	3. III: Breakfast is Served with a Side of Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order to bring this chapter out faster I cut the plot in half, so it's not very eventful.

October 2nd.

Warm light peeked out of the white drapey curtains and shone onto Butters hair like a blanket of heat, contrasting to the coldness of Butters stiff toes. Around this time it was still somewhat warm but a South Park Summer is fleeting. Soon it would be snowing again in no time. The warms soaked Butters face as he stirred, the light reaching into his eyes, his mind telling him to wake up and enjoy the beautiful day ahead. Butters shuffled deeper into his pillow. On days when his parents were away, he could sleep in all he wanted. It was a luxury he savored. To fully enjoy the sleepy fuzzy warm feeling of being alone and comfortable on a floating fluffy island for himself and himself only with no disturbances. It was peaceful. Butters loved peaceful.

Slowly he opened his eyes, facing towards the window. The white light emanating from the window stuck his eyes with such a force that he had to shut them again. The light, of course, didn't relent. It shone its love on the world for everyone to enjoy with such passion and intensity that if you got too close you'd burn. Stories with those types of romances might just be Butters favorite, not that he had read much romance, but being a maturing boy with no one to turn to, he often wondered why romance novels interested the girls so much. And now he knew.

Butters felt his dreamy thoughts fleet and now returned to full consciousness. He remembered his parents were away, and he remembered the house was to himself, and then he remembered the boy he took home...

Butters jolted into an upright position immediately and peered to besides his bed. The mattress laid out was messy and vacant indicated someone had slept there. Butters rubbed his eyes tiredly. He didn't want to deal with this... but if he didn't he could be in big trouble. He felt his stomach and Chet tighten with anxiety.

He threw off his covers and got out of bed frantically. If the boy had wandered off somewhere then came back while his parents were there he'd have hell to pay. Or maybe the boy had gotten stuck somewhere, or was reported on the streets, what if he told someone Butters kidnapped him?

These irrational thoughts buzzed through Butters mind. It wasn't uncommon for him to overreact, after all, that's what his parents would do so they could punish him, even for things so minor like the expression on his face.

Butters shuddered. He will find the boy and keep him hidden until he found where he belongs. 

Butters rushed out of the room but then stopped in his tracks. 'Hang on..', he thought, trying to calm down and remain sensible. 'What I am doing... Trying to keep him hidden for my sake. Isn't that sort of wrong...?'

'But last night when the boy went to bed I searched online or any missing person reports... I am trying my best.'

'But my best isn't good enough... I need to hand him into the police...'

Butters shook his head. He couldn't hand him into the police, maybe it was because he was just bored and fond of the boy, but Butters felt like there was something wrong and that handing him away would be dangerous. And if he did, his parents would find out. He'd have to do it quietly.

It wasn't unusual for Butters to doubt himself, he'd do it all the time. Sometimes these doubts would come manifested as if his parents were with him and that scared him, however, these weren't those. He sighed. Sometimes he really over thought.

First things first. Find him.

He tore down the stairs not caring if he toppled over.

First things first.

He came to the living room to find it as neat and tidy as it always is. His mother insists it stay clean at all times in case people would come over as a surprise. She'd be especially strict when it was her turn to host the book club, that's when she'd tell Butters to go to his room and be silent, and if he didn't his father would storm up and ground him.

But first things first.

He entered the kitchen and immediately his eyes focused on a single point. There was a boy in his clothes raiding the cupboards.

Butters instinctively exhaled. The tightness in his stomach released and his muscles relaxed.

'Everything's fine.'

The boy was standing on a chair to reach the highest shelf of the pantry with a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal in one hand and was reaching for some Cheesy Poofs with the other.

Butters just gawked at him almost unable to process the situation due to the amount of stress he'd accumulated due to panic.

He looked onwards at the dirty blond boy for a few seconds, breathing slowly to build up the courage and get back to his usual friendly self.

"Hi there... I-I suppose you've found the food..." Butters stuttered and slightly chuckled. His attempt at sounding casual and friendly failed as his voice was weak.

"I'm starving." The boy replied looking towards Butters, flashing his deep blue eyes.

Butters was slightly taken aback by this. The other blond was actually showing emotion. Butters blinked twice, trying to configure his thoughts into a streamlined plan of action.

The boy looked just as sickly as he did last night yet Butters could tell he certainly looked more lively as if he had light behind his eyes.

Butters finally decided to speak up, as the boy ate a handful of dry cereal.

"Well, uh, I'm glad you seem to be feeling better..." He started, fiddling with his hands. "So I think I need to know, y'know, since I let you stay here the night, what your name is?"

The boy stopped eating the cereal right out of the box and turned to face Butters. He wore a solemn face and furrowed his brows thoughtfully and looked around the room, seemingly analyzing it.

"I guess that right. My name is Kenny. So this is your house?" He asked looking at the kitchen sink intently.

"It sure is," Butters replied. "But you already know that since I brought you here last night."

Kenny's face changed from a dazed reminiscing expression to that of a puzzled and slightly uncomfortable one. He looked down at his hands an then pulled at Butters' unfamiliar shirt that he was wearing.

He finally spoke, and when he did his voice was soft and raw. "I don't remember yesterday..." Kenny's face was so white Butters thought he couldn't get any paler. Kenny looked into Butters eyes as he was searching for something that could comfort him or bring him any closure.

Butters gulped and decided to ask the big question that had been bugging him since yesterday. "Do you know where you've come from? I suppose you haven't run away, have ya?

Kenny thought for a long moment but eventually shook his head. "I really don't know... I don't know anything!" He wept. Kenny had a look in his glassy cerulean eyes that told Butters Kenny was filled with sorrow, fear, confusion, and anguish.

Butters was taken aback. 'Did Kenny have some kind of amnesia? Maybe he's lying...' Butters thought to himself.

"Are you tellin me you don't remember a thing, at all?" Butters pressed, determined to get some information out of the boy.

"I guess that's right..." Kenny whispered.

'If Kenny didn't remember a thing, even about yesterday,' Butters thought. 'Then he shouldn't remember that I had to give him a wash...' Butters sighed and looked at Kenny, ever so slightly blushing. At least some good came out of this.

Kenny's voice broke Butters train of thought as he asked, with a curious and confident tone, "So who are you?"

"M-my name is Leopold Stotch, but everyone calls me Butters." He explained, feeling oddly shy and slightly intimidated by this stranger. "I found you clawing your way out of Starks Pond and I thought to help you. You were quite unresponsive so I brought you here, to my house."

Kenny studied Butters from his head to his feet thoughtfully. Butters looked away and fidgeted. Kenny's gaze made him feel like he was under a microscope.

Butters thought to quickly change the subject and talk about Kenny's situation under a lighter circumstance. Butters usually tried to avoid confrontation at all costs.

"You said you were, uh, hungry right? How bout I fix you up some breakfast?" He offered, gesturing towards the pantry.

"Sounds great." Replied the dirty blond setting aside the snacks he had raided from the cupboards.

Butters nervously walked to the white, cool fridge and quickly took out a grey rough carton of eggs. He glanced at Kenny who was watching him intently. The pan his mother kept under the sink was large and slightly heavy. He set it on the stove top and turned on the heat.

"So." He began, trying to sound casual. "I was looking o-online to find some missing person reports and such... Found nuthin'. I guess it might take a few days for someone to contact the police." Butters looked at the blond, who stared back and nodded.

Butters lightly hit an egg on the kitchen counter's surface and broke the shell, bringing it to the pan and dumping the gooey liquid into the bowl. 

"Feel free to stay the night again... My parents get home tomorrow from a romantic cruize but I'm sure I can sort something out if you need to stay longer..." Butters suggested while pouring a lid of oil into the pan. Kenny just shrugged, not really knowing what to say or do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So about my characterization of Butters, Since he is often depicted as fiddling with his hands and how he has such overbearing parents, I wanted to write him as very anxious. This will give me some room to develop his growth and stuff as well as ad more real-world issues into my story. I hope how I wrote his emotions properly conveyed an irrational sense of panic.  
> Please tell me what you think! It would mean a lot to me as I am a very amateur writer.


	4. IV: Kenny is Not Okay

October 2nd 

"Kenny, could ya come here a moment?" Butters asked, clicking away at his keyboard.

Kenny looked up from the floor, which is where he sat, setting the coloring pencils aside. He got up and set himself beside Butters, leaning on the desk. He set his deep blue eyes on the map system Butters was looking at.

"A-as you can see, I've pulled a map containing the locations of mental and drug institutions around Colorado. The closest psychiatric hospital seems to be the Colorado Mental Health Institute, by car it would take over an hour, but on foot, it would take a whole day..."Butters explained, showing Kenny where he was talking about on the map.

Butters turned to Kenny and gave a shy, reassuring smile. "Do ya recognize the name?" He asked. Kenny just shook his head. Butters sighed.

"Well, there are other places we could check out... maybe we could even visit some of them... if we can get a lift." Butters offered, shrugging. 

Kenny looked at Butters with an intense gaze. He opened his mouth to speak but looked like he thought against it when he closed it again. He turned his face to the screen again. The computer monitor's light lit up his face with a cool glow which contrasted with the warm heat of Butters lamp that sat beside Butters, opposite of Kenny. 

"Please..." Butters whispered. "If you have something you want to say, go ahead. Any information you can give me will help me. I-I'm sure of it." He smiled weakly, turning his desk chair towards Kenny with an offering look. Butters expression wavered when he saw Kenny turn gloomy. 

Kenny turned away ever so slightly and looked down at his palms in his lap. "It's not that..." He muttered.

"Well, uh, what is it, Ken?" Butters inquired, fidgeting with his hands like always. Kenny's expression was that of a melancholic stare which made Butters feel down too. He was trying his best to accommodate the other blond boy, but he knew he wasn't qualified to look after anyone, let alone someone with possible retrograde amnesia.

"I don't think I come from any of these places. I'm not sick! I feel just fine... I probably just hit my head and... wandered off?" Kenny expressed, tightening his hands around each other. "There's nothing wrong with me..." He mumbled.

"Oh jeez, I really didn't mean it like that! I just, uh, was trying to help..." Butters stammered, glancing back and forth between his monitor and Kenny.

"I know you are!" Kenny snapped his tone aggressive, as he set his azure flashing eyes on Butters. They fell back instantly when Kenny saw the hurtful and confused look Butters wore. His head fell into his hand, as he leaned on the desk more.

"Sorry..." He began. "I appreciate your help... But you have no idea of what I'm going through. I do have memories, I must have. I can speak English and I can vaguely recognize the food I like, not that any of it is enjoyable right now, so my memories must be locked away somewhere. I can't even begin to tell you how my senses feel right now. I can still feel sensations but everything feels...fuzzy. Like I'm in a cloud. A bad cloud... a heavy cloud..." 

Butters looked at him worryingly which Kenny caught on to. "I'm not sick though! I'm really not! There's nothing wrong with me... Nothing at all." He shouted.

Butters knew, however, that there was something indeed wrong with the boy, and that he was just denying it. Kenny was littered with bruises, his eyes still held the dark colors around them, and his fingers and lips were a very slight purple. He was not okay. Butters just nodded solemnly. He didn't want to get Kenny wound up so he kept his mouth shut.

Kenny kept speaking, it was like a damn had broken within him, letting out all his thoughts and feelings.

"And I'm sure this'll be a shock to you... But I can't even feel my own heartbeat.  Ever since I woke up I've been feeling really, really hungry, even after Iv'e just eaten." Kenny's expression was dark and insecure. His tone was heavy and in the silence of the night, it was frightening. 

Butters gulped and ran his brain though all the reasonable things to say to the boy. 

'Should I take him to the doctors? The hospital?'

'I should.'

'But there's something wrong with this... It's jut too odd."

When Butters was sad, he'd always wished for someone to hug him, but they never did. He looked up and wondered if Kenny could use a hug. Kenny's eyes hung lifelessly, as he stared into the abyss. 

'Okay, he needs a hug and then a trip to the hospital' Butters concluded. 

He grabbed the boys shoulders with a bit more force than he should've and pulled Kenny towards him, bringing him down to chair level. Butters held his breath and looked away. He felt Kenny shake ever so slightly in his arms. He heard a hushed whimper from the boy which panged  at Butters heart. It's hard to imagine the situation Kenny was in, but Butters could at least try. 

It was almost as if Butters was the one finding comfort in the hug, however, as he buried his face in the other blonds chest. 

They stayed like that for a moment or two and all Butters could hear was a peaceful, calming silence. 

Silence. 

Butters brain switched on when he realised that he really shouldn't be hearing silence when he was so close to another humans chest. He could feel his own heart beat but Kenny's seemed to be nonexistent. Butters didn't want to panic, not again, so he told himself that this was normal and that he wasn't listening hard enough.

He pressed his ear harder to Kenny's chest but Kenny started to stir. 

"Butters?" Kenny questioned, cautiously. "We can stop hugging... I'm okay now." He backed away from Butters with an odd look in his eyes, as if Butters was the weird one, not him. 

The lighter blond's cheeks heated up with embarrassment. He didn't mean to be weird, he was just trying to help. 

"You said that you couldn't feel your heartbeat..." Butters started explaining, gesturing to Kenny. "Neither could I..." 

Kenny's eyes flashed with fear ever so slightly but he regained composure quickly. "You mustn't have tried to hear it carefully enough." He offered, trying to sound as casual as he could.

"N-no, I'm very sure. I couldn't hear a thing..." Butters uttered, quietly. He wanted to step lightly around the boy, as to not set him off. 

"Are you saying I don't have a heartbeat? Because that's impossible." Kenny scoffed. 

Butters shifted in his seat. That's what he was saying, wasn't it? But it really would be impossible for Kenny to not have a heartbeat. 

Butters looked away and mumbled. "Do ya want me to check again?" 

"Please." He heard Kenny's raw voice reply with. 

Butters moved towards Kenny once again placing his ear against Kenny's chest and held his breath.

He waited.  
And waited.  
And he heard nothing. 

'Yep, Kenny is not okay.'

***

"I'm really hungry again..." Kenny whined as he tossed in his bed on the floor. 

"We had dinner, like, only a few hours ago, and you had heaps!" Butters exclaimed from his own bed. 

"Well, I'm still hungry."

Butters grunted and sat up. From his bed, he could see the cool moonlight peeking out from his curtains. Butters has school tomorrow, so really didn't want to stay up late tonight.

"Okay, how about ya getta snack from the kitchen?" Butters offered. "But be quiet, I want to get to sleep."

Kenny didn't reply but when Butters heard some shuffling noises, he knew Kenny was getting up to go to the kitchen. He heard the door creak open slowly and then shut lightly. Butters sighed. 

He'd have to wake up early to relocate Kenny to the basement before his parents would arrive. They'd freak out if they found Kenny in his room, and if they found out Kenny was in a hopeless predicament, as Butters isn't allowed to bring homeless people back to his house anymore, they'd sure be sour with him. 

Butters buried himself beneath his covers, trying to ignore the stresses of harboring this mysterious individual known as Kenny. 

How he'd try to think of relaxing things such as summer vacations and warm kittens but at times like these, Butters' anxiety would get the best of him, as always. 

'If Kenny has no heartbeat...' He contemplated. 'Is Kenny dead?' 

'Maybe it's just really quiet.'

'But if Kenny is dead... Like a zombie, that would explain why he's so hungry and so sickly looking.'

'No that's illogical. Zombies eat brains, right? Kenny hasn't eaten my brains.'

'He's too pretty to be a walking corpse anyways...' Butters concluded as he rolled over to face the wall. He turned again and breathed deeply. 

'Kenny is taking awhile' he thought to himself. 

"Ughhh." Butters groaned sitting back up. He stumbled his way in the dark to the door. There was no light peeking out and so Butters assumed Kenny didn't turn the lights on. 'Now why would he do that?' Butters fussed to himself and turned on the hallway light. 

The single dim light illuminated the hall and the stairway. Shadows loomed in the corners and behind each step. Butters called to Kenny softly. No reply. 

He hesitantly moved forward. Butters felt all of a sudden very insecure. It's not like he was afraid of the dark or anything... But he felt unreasonably nervous as he took the first step down. He huddled together, holding himself and took the second stop.

And then the third.

And then the fourth.

As he made he way down ever so slowly, Butters saw a peek of orange towards the end of the stairs. He rushed forward to help but leaned too far and came crashing down the hard stairs and landed on top of Kenny with a thud. Each step was a hard dull stab in his ribs or thighs. Butters groaned, his chin resting on Kenny's back and his arms and legs splayed out. Kenny didn't make a sound. Or move at all actually, to Butters horror.

Butters rolled off and onto the concrete floor and exhaled. Kenny certainly cushioned his fall. He pushed himself up from the floor but stopped right in his tracks when he noticed his hands were in a warm wet substance.

He shot up immediately, almost loosing his feet in the slippery substance that Butters hoped was not blood. He grasped at the wall searching for the light switch. His heart was beating incredibly fast. So fat he could hear it in his ears and feel it in his fingertips. 

Click.

He turned the cool light switch on. The dark fled instantly and what replaced it blinded Butters for a slip second. He noticed that the light switch was smeared with blood as well as the green walls. Butters gulped and started to shake. His palms grew sweaty. He stared at the bloody light switch unable to turn away. His brain might've just overloaded. 

'This can't be... Is Kenny dead...?' 

'I can't look.'

'I have to look.' 

Butters stared at the wall fighting with himself for a good five minutes. It was useless, however, as Butters did need to look at the tragedy before him. He gasped for air like he was being suffocated, and boy did Butters feel like he was being suffocated. Too many thoughts plagued his mind. 

He slowly turned on his heels to look beside him, and in a crumpled heap laid Kenny in a growing pool of blood. Butters couldn't scream. He couldn't do anything. After all what was the appropriate action for a teenage boy to do when the person he was supposed to be taken care of died.


	5. V: Mess

October 2nd.

After a long while of staring, gasping and panicking, Butters finally hushed his own stressful murmurs.

Kenny's corpse laid down at the base of the stairs in a crumpled position. His head faced the wall. Dark blood pooled under him, now cold and still. Butters breathed in. He had to call the police.

He made his way to the cream-colored telephone that lay on top of the small table beside the couch. He slowly reached for it but before he could touch the smooth surface he stopped. Butters eyed the telephone and gulped. The image of his parent's angry faces crossed his mind. And then the disappointed look in his mother's eyes as Officer Barbrady (((((find out if slept ok) dragged him away in the car. Butters shuddered. He wouldn't be blamed would he?

'But I have to do it.' He thought. 'If I don't I'd have to hide the body and clean up all the mess in one night!'

'But they can't find out.' Butters shook I head as if to shake out those dark thoughts of his.

'It's an accident. They'll understand.'

'Not my parents, they don't listen. They'd ground me until I was sent to hell!'

'Maybe I deserve it'd or causing all this trouble. I should be punished.'

Butters shook and retracted his hand. He shuddered once more. This was selfish. What about the poor boy's parents? They'd be worried sick without closure, never knowing what happened to their son Kenny. The only reason why he hadn't picked up the phone was the fear of his parent's wrath, judging and punishing him, and there was nothing Butters could do to avoid getting grounded and berated.

Yet he held onto the phone again, fighting the mental barrier of anxiety and dread. Butters wasn't a bad person, he always tried to do the right thing, and calling the police was the right thing. He could deal with the consequences later.

He clutched the phone and speedily brought it to his ear, shaking. He inhaled a deep breath and pressed the first button. Nine and then one and then-

"Fuck..." A loud groan from behind him startled Butters to the extent where he jolted in the air and the phone crashed into the ground, bringing the whole thing to the floor. It laid down in one piece, thankfully.

Butters turned to the noise. His heart beat faster than it ever had. Butters choked on his own breath, spluttering at the sight of Kenny standing in front of him. He did die, didn't he? He did.

Kenny looked groggy, his eyes were surrounded by even darker hues than before. He rubbed the back of his head and winced ever so slightly. He peered down to his barefoot feet, noticing the large blood pool. He looked up at himself, inspecting his hands. They were covered in the stuff from him pushing himself up.

Butters was beyond shock. He couldn't even think. He only stared.

Kenny looked at Butters and his azure eyes widened at the sight of Butters shaking blood-smeared hands. Kenny's mouth hung agape. He wore a look of panic and terror.

Butters stammered, looking for words. What could he even say? That Kenny had died only 15 minutes ago? That he was still and bleeding out from his cracked skull? Butters was sure he was dead. Kenny's glassy eyes and his blond hair poking out of his hood dyed red flashed though Butters mind. He inhaled sharply and felt as if his heartbeat had become irregular.

Butters eyed Kenny closely. He didn't seem too hurt, in fact, he seemed quite lively and shocked. This couldn't be some kind of paranormal thing, right? Surely there was a logical explanation for all of this.

To find his answer, Butters neared Kenny slowly, Kenny's eyes following.

"What are you doing?" Kenny asked with a low cautious tone.

"J-just checking something..." Butters murmured and slowly inched behind Kenny. Kenny tried to turn to look at him but Butters held onto Kenny's bloody shoulder and kept him in place. Butters gulped. He was going to look. He had to know.

Butters slowly pulled the orange hood slowly, it came down easily until it reached the middle back of his head, where the blood was the reddest, where Butters had to peel it away from Kenny's skull because of the wet thick blood. Butters hyperventilated, his head became dizzy and cloudy, as he leaned on the staircase rails. Butters face was so pale you could call it translucent, a subtle purple hung under his eyes.

Butters was so worked up he couldn't manage his breathing at all. His surrounding were getting blurrier and blurrier. He looked back at Kenny's exposed scalp and cried it. It wasn't very big, but a gaping wound that was drooling blood was not something Butters had ever seen, especially not on someone in real life. The skull was shattered as it had completely cracked open despite being slightly protected by Kenny's hood and if Butters inspected it longer, maybe he would have noticed that Kenny's brains were slightly exposed. What an unfortunate fall.

As quick as lightning Butters brain and shut down from overstimulation. He crumpled to the floor, laying faint on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked this chapter! I had fun writing it :) Don't forget to kudos if you like my story! Sorry its so short tho


	6. VI: If They Only Knew

Oct 3rd

 

"Hurry up fatass, we've only got tonight to finish our drama film!" Kyle yelled at Cartman, walking backwards along with Butters and Craig.

"I'm not...fat! You... fuckin Jew!" He shouted back, wheezing and huffing, hunched over with his hands on his knees.

Kyle sent a smirk towards Butters which Butters responded with a sleepy shrug. Eric Cartman could be considered the slacker in their drama group, If not for him coming up with the main idea of WWII and how to portray fear in the battlefield, much to Kyle's dismay. Butters and everyone in the group already knew that even though Cartman selected himself as the leader, all he was going to do was boss the rest around and eat cheesy poofs. He even forced Butters to surrender his house for them to use, and then leave the mess for him to clean up.

Butters snuck a glance at the other boys, walking through the wet grass. Eric was breathing hard, struggling to catch up as Kyle sneered at him, enjoying one of the only times he could actually poke fun at Cartman without getting abused. Craig was ignoring everyone, as usual, keeping his eyes in front with the goal of getting to Butters house.

'If they only knew...' Butters thought, while his hands uncontrollably started to fidget. They could never find out, he decided. If they did... If they found out there was an immortal being inside his basement, well, Cartman would most definitely blackmail Butters, Kyle would contemplate turning him over, and as Craig was the outsider, being put in their drama class by Mr. D, Butters had no hecking idea how he would react.

But it's okay. It's okay because they will never find out. Butters won't let that happen. All he had to do was keep them out of the basement. Throughout the entire day, Butters felt he was keeping a huge secret. He knew something no one else knew. He tried his darn best to act as natural as possible but the anxiety caused by poor Kenny had been stirring inside of him.

After they spent 6 hours cleaning up the living room walls and floors, (which was hecking exhausting) Butters had to relocate Kenny to the basement. It's the only place they wouldn't check to see if Butters had messed up the place somehow since Butters never goes into the basement. Not since the Margarine incident.

'What if my parents have already found out?'

'No, they wouldn't, they hardly ever go into the basement.'

But there's always a chance. Butters shuddered.

As it turned out, Kenny was a pretty fun guy to talk to. Butters assumed he was trying to distract himself because he was acting quite goofy and asked a lot about Butters life. Butters told him about school and his friends as well as some things about South Park. When they chatted, Especially about friends, Butters saw the pain that filled Kenny's eyes azure eyes. It was sorrowful and it made Butters heartthrob. He felt sympathy for the boy and a feeling of determination overcame him. Whatever Kenny wanted, he was going to give it to him. Something about his attractive melancholic blue eyes excited Butters. Like there was a mystery to solve.

It excited Butters but terrified him all the same. Truth be told, he didn't know if the boy was dangerous or what. But there was something telling him that he wasn't, and maybe he was just a boy who wants to have fun.

"Butters! Hey Butters!" Kyle exclaims and grabs onto Butters shoulder with an alarmed expression. "Dude are you okay? You totally zoned out!"

"D-did I?" Butters stammered observing his surroundings. He was already at his front door. It seemed he was leaving school just a minute ago.

"Yeah, we said your name three times already." Craig deadpanned.

"Just open the door Butters! You can act like a spaz later!" Cartman whined, shifting his weight between legs.

"R-right," Butters replied and reached for the house keys in his pocket. He stuck them into the keyhole and turned, hoping, praying, that his parents weren't there to greet him with Kenny bound up. He took a deep breath and swung the door open and the doorway was empty.

Instead, his parents were sat on the couch watching the TV with a concerned look on their face.

"Hey Mom, hey Dad." Butters greeted trying to sound as casual as he could. "We're filming our drama performance today."

"That's nice Butters." Mr. Stotch answered dismissively.

"Butters sweetie, you didn't see any crazies on the way to school, did you?" Mrs. Stotch asked with her hands in her lap.

"Uh, no Mom. Why, is something happening?" Butters replied, instantly fidgeting with his hands.

'Are they talkin bout Kenny?'

"Well, it's just that there have been some sick people under the influence attacking people. I want to keep you safe, sweetie." Mrs. Stotch answered with an uncomfortable expression.

"Rumour has it that at the 'Large Bath' festival there were some bath salts going around. Real strong stuff... Glad I wasn't there or else I would have... Well, nevermind that. " Mr. Stotch quickly explained with a serious yet longing expression. "Anyways just make sure to stay away from anyone lookin funny, you hear me? If you start hanging out with the wrong crowd you'll be grounded for a whole year!"

"O-of course Dad, I won't." Promised Butters, holding his breath. Clearly, Kenny was the type his dad was talking about, or at least that's what he seemed to be at a first glance, rather than something undead. Butters glanced down at his feet then glanced at his friends. Butters knew he was the only one of them getting grounded at their age. He couldn't help but feel insecure and embarrassed.

"Well, uh, c'mon guys, Let's go to the attic." Prompted Butters, trying to move his 'friends' out of the living room.

"We're doing this in the basement, Butters. It's less dark and cramped." Cartman commanded with a lazy drawl like it was obvious.

'No fuckin way' Butters cursed in his head. "Uh, b-but the basement is all crowded with junk and shiz. The attic is better, trust me!" Butters exclaimed, sounding more alarmed than he would've like to sound.

"We can work in the attic," Kyle suggested to Cartman, shrugging.

"Of course you'd like to work in the attic you fucking Jew." Cartman proclaimed and sneered at Kyle. "I'm the leader of the group and I say we work in the basement!"

"But Eric, the-"

"Do what he says Butters, he is the leader. I don't want no son of mine to be a nuisance to the team" Mr. Stotch commanded. "Plus your mother cleaned out the basement last weekend. It should be fine."

'Gee thanks, Dad.' Butters glared at his feet.

"But the attic-" But before Butters could even finish his dad sent him a look that said 'If you oppose my work you will be punished'. Butters gulped. He did tell Kenny to hide if he heard footsteps go near the basement so maybe no one will find out. Kenny already proved to him he was a good hider when he managed to fit himself in a cardboard box.

Butters breathed a horribly shaky breath in. "Yes, Dad." He replied, obediently and gestured for his fellow group members to follow him.

He eyed the door to the basement with accusing eyes. Was this the end? Was Kenny going to be found out? Would Butters be grounded for eternity? Only one way to find out. He opened it loudly, hoping to prompt Kenny to hide. He then coughed at her loudly just to make sure. Butters looked back at his friends who were waiting for him, expectantly.

"Here it is." Butters sighed and walked down the creaky wooden staircase. The guys followed suit.

The basement reminded Butters of many, many unpleasant things and the light behind him shone into the dark basement almost made him want to turn back as if he'd get trapped in there if he went down any further. He pulled the frail pull string and the light flickered for a good few seconds until it shone steadily, illuminating the whole area.

"Alright, now Craig, did you bring the BB gun?" Cartman asked in an overly commanding way.

"Oh shit. I forgot it." Craig replied, bringing out his phone to text.

"You asshole! You did this on purpose, didn't you?" Cartman yelled.

"The fuck?!" Craig responded, shoving his phone back in his pocket, at straightens his back.

"Dudes, please. This is due tomorrow, we can't waste time-fighting!" Kyle pleased.

"Oh please, you're an A grade student. Like you can't afford to fail a class. You're the most privileged of us all, Kyle. Stop complaining."

"No, I'm not! What about Token? He's rich enough to be tutored by an English and Maths professional." Kyle argued back, as he always did with Cartman. He always was the one to try and stop the arguments but always ended up off in the middle of it all.

"Um, hello? Token is black you idiot. He doesn't count." Eric Cartman exclaimed. Token sent a pissed off look towards Cartman, which he shrugged off.

"Well, what about Butters? He's white, well off, and belongs to a Catholic family." Kyle suggested, irritated.

"Butters' a fag, you Jew. If he came out to his parents he'd get beaten and sent to camp again." Cartman retorted. Butters cringed remembering his time from the gay conversion camp. If Cartman was right about anything, it was his dad's temper and raging homophobia, despite being quite queer himself.

"Well, what about Craig?" Kyle suggested once more.

"Okay can we please, please quit it!" Token yelled in a tiresome tone. "I need a good grade. Even though I'm not gonna fucking get one working with you spastics, I need to at least try."

Everyone looked at each other, almost accusingly. Butters looked around at the neatly stacked boxes in the corner.  
'Was Kenny hiding in there?'

"Anyways so I brought an armband, a mustache, a pistol, and some boots," Cartman explained, gathering the props from out of his backpack.

"What the fuck." Exclaimed Kyle.

"Is there a problem, Kyle?" Cartman asked, cynically staring at him.

Kyle crossed his arms and glared at Eric. "Of course there's a fucking problem, Cartman! Hitler didn't fight in World War Two!"

"But he was a soldier in World War One!"

"Enough with this bullshit!" Craig yelled, startling Butters. "It's for Drama class, not History. It doesn't need to be accurate."

"But-"

"Please..." Butters chimed in, louder than he intended. "Let's just get this over with." Everyone shrugged and accepted his plea and they all got to work to set the scene. Craig and Eric were moving boxes, setting them up as sandbags, or something. Butters palms started to sweat, as he watched them lift the boxes.

'Kenny could be anywhere in here...' He stressed. Butters picked up a brown wooden walking cane that was meant to represent a gun as he heard a decently loud thud and an 'oof' follow.

"What the actual fuck!" Cartman exclaimed. Butters snapped his head to Eric and saw the broken box he was carrying and the startled, confused expression Cartman wore. On the floor laid Kenny, looking equally as startled. Quite quickly, Kenny's face morphed to one of fear, matching Butters.

Needless to say, they weren't passing their school assignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! sorry, I haven't updated in forever. I was real busy doing an online competition! updates should now happen around once a week, as usual. Please tell me what you think of my story!
> 
> Also if you want to see some art I have made regarding this AU, go check out this story via wattpad where I posted some in the Authors Note chap


	7. VII: Cartman Dabs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is on hiatus. Also, this is unedited...

"Butters!" Came a harsh whisper from his right. "Butters, wake up!"

Butters stirred awake, peeling his sleep deprived eyes open. His window was open, revealing cool moonlight, illuminating his room. A cool breeze swayed his blue curtains hypnotically. As he came to consciousness, Butters eyes focused on the blob of lard poking his head trough the window.

"Jesus Christ, Butters, how long it take to wake you up!" Cartman complained. Eric Cartman was beyond comediclly dressed as he wore all black with a black beanie on.

"W-what? I uhh," he mumbled, and sat up in his single blue sheeted bed.

"Kenny's ready to go, so get the fuck up!" He whisper-yelled and pointed to the opposite of Butters bed. There Kenny stood, wearing another one of Butters shirts and pants, watching Butters. It was almost creepy.

"Right... Yeah I'm coming." He mumbled. After this afternoons fiasco, Butters was forced to inform everyone on the Kenny situation. Thankfully, they believed him and decided to help out. Of course though, with Cartman knowing his little secret, Butters knew he'd have to step carefully, and avoid up setting him.

He got out of bed, already dressed, or at least, dressed enough to go outside. He was wearing plain navy pyjama pants and one of his own white and blue shirts. Thankfully the weather wasn't too cold yet, and he didn't have to bundle himself up. Butters grabbed his spare backpack containing Kenny's parka and pants as well as blankets and supplies for Kenny including his cheap made-in-china bootleg iPod shuffle and threw it onto his back.

"Okay, uhh, you first." He said, motioning for Kenny to climb out the window. Kenny smiled slightly and nodded. Cartman hopped down from the window, back outside letting Kenny tumble out of the window.

Then Butters came following suit, his trainers landing on the damp grass with a squelch. He looked around to see Stan and Kyle, both with their respective backpacks. Butters smiled. He knew everyone just wanted to help, or at least Stan and Kyle did.

Stan was told about the situation through Kyle, who said Kenny could stay in Stan's Uncle Jimbo's bomb shelter in his backyard. Butters had stayed in there once when he was a child, so he knew that it would be a safe place for Kenny to dwell in for the moment. Anything was better than Butters house, at least.

Craig and Token weren't as willing to help out as the others, and so they had to swear to secrecy, but really who knew what they were gonna tell people. It made Butters stomach churn thinking about the trouble they could cause. Eric proposed the idea that they could bribe them to shut their mouths, which is a great idea if not for strain on Butters pocket money. It's a good plan B though.

"Is everyone ready?" Kyle asked. Everyone nodded. Stan came towards the front of the group, leading them to his uncle's house.

Kenny walked besides Butters, studying the streets with lidded eyes.

"Do ya see anything familiar?" Butters asked, fiddling with his fingers. Kenny shook his lowered head and sighed.

Butters stared down at the concrete path they were waking on and furrowed his brows. He was beyond concerned for the boy, and to be honest, he wasn't even sure if he could help him at all, but he had to try. There was something about the dirty blond who walked beside him that made Butters feel calm yet panicked all at the same time. Butters didn't know what that meant or even if it made sense, but as he was going to be spending a lot of time with Kenny to solve the mystery, he figured he'd be able to find out. Maybe it was the supernatural mystery surrounding the boy, or how he seemed so carefree with his words but carried a melancholy in his glassy gaze, but there seemed to be a magnetic force pulling Butters towards Kenny. He just had to know more about the boy.

Butters looked up again, and noticed him and Kenny must've been dragging behind, as the rest were further in front, bickering as always. Each small run down streetlight slightly flickered, indicating they were in the more populated side of South Park, where the shops and schools were. With the guys being further up, leaving Kenny and Butters alone, Butters felt a very calming sensation. There's something about walking around in the quiet nighttime that could make anyone feel weirdly alert yet at peace. The twinkling stars in the nights sky were everyone's, and that at one point or another, everyone had looked up at these stars. Butters felt as if he could wander the streets with Kenny for hours. In fact, maybe he already had, as the serene night sky made him feel infinite.

Butters looked at Kenny and smiled slightly. Kenny still had the dark rings under his eyes and his skin was as pale as ever, but under the final flickering streetlight, he was almost glowing. Butters didn't have to ask, he could see it in Kenny's eyes, he felt the same way. At peace.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Boomed a voice from the shadows and floating lights before them. It was Cartman. "You two tards better get here because I am not waiting for you catch up!"

Butters groaned and rolled his head towards Kenny. What a mood killer. Butters started jogging towards the others, flicking his flashlight on.

Jimbo's wasn't far from any of the boy's houses, or far from anywhere in South Park. His house was right on the edge of South Park, only a minute walk away from the woods. Jimbo and his friend Ned were really into hunting, so it made sense as to why they'd live close to the wilderness.

The two quickly caught up to the glowing lights that were the Kyle's, Eric's and Stan's flashlights and safely rejoined the team.

It wasn't long until they made it to Jimbo's . His house was dark and quiet, which made sense as it was 3:00 hecking AM.

"Okay come here guys, and turn your flashlights off. We don't want to get spotted." Commanded Cartman and ushered the other boys over. "Okay Stan, now go over the plan."

Stan rolled his eyes and huffed, and brought himself forward.

"It's not much of a plan... We just need to get into the backyard by climbing over the fence. The shelter should be right at the back." He explained.

Butters had snuck himself into private property before, usually against his will, and so sneaking into Jimbo's large and overgrown mess of a backyard didn't seem all that daunting for the boy. Instead why worried Butters was the low chance that someone could enter the underground bomb shelter and find Kenny.

Stan was the first who clutched onto the wooden fence, which wobbled and tilted with each movement of his, until he jumped off onto the other side.

Next was Cartman. Butters cringed at the way Cartman shuffled up onto the fence, and was almost sure it would topple over once he made it on top, but thankfully it didn't... But Butters did hear some cracking of the wood. Butters gulped and looked back at Kenny, who was zoning out, as usual. As worried as Butters was that they were going to get caught, he had to do it.

Butters then turned to the brown decaying fence and put his palms over the wood. It was splintery and rugged. I texture Butters wasn't fond of.

"Hurry up!" Commanded Cartman. "This grass is itchy."

"R-right..." Mumbled Butters as he hesitantly dragged his body up the fence, he held onto the top as tight as he could, turning his fingers white. The fence slowly started to lean into the unknowns of the backyard until his world suddenly took a major disorientating dip, and he met the ground head first. The impact was relatively soft however, due to the excess of unmowed grass.

"Shit Butters!" Cartman hissed, and steppe back from the fallen fence. "Why must you be such a fuck-up!"

Butters winced at the name-calling and stared at the toppled fence in front of him. This was bad. 

"Shit." Kyle cursed, as his head snapped towards the house. A light. A light was on.

'Oh, Hamburgers!' Butters thought. This was it. They were going to get caught.

"Get into the shelter! Now!" Cartman almost yelled, pointing to the left corner of the spacious and forest-like yard.

"But he'll be out at any moment!" Kyle cried, "We need to leave, now!"

"Don't be a fucking selfish jew and ditch us, Kyle," Cartman argued and started to push Butters and Kenny towards the shelter.

"Fuck you, I'm leaving. This was a terrible idea!" Kyle called from behind.

"Yeah fuck off Kyle, how dare you try to rob Jimbo!" Cartman yelled, extra loud.

Stan was already at the grey steel hatch, holding it open. Cartman practically threw Kenny in, and shoved Butters down into the opening, hurting him in the process.

From above the cylindrical walls of the opening, Butters noticed a second light turned on.

This was really bad. He was going to get caught.

The backyard glass sliding door opened and Butters could see the silhouette of what looked like [that Viet nam vet guy].

"Get down, I'll distract him." He hissed.  
Cartman pulled the door down hard on Butters head, which hecking hurt. Butters lifted the door slowly up, creating a small slit he could see out of.

What Butters was that day would always stay with him.

Eric Cartman did the deepest, fattest dab in mankind and yelled "Begone, Antifa!"

With that, Butters dropped the weight of the door, sealing him and Kenny in the small and dry shelter. Butters climbed down the ladder and threw himself onto one of the flimsy beds. His heart was pounding and his head was throbbing. This was a nightmare.


End file.
